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Because the headlines just keep on coming.
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Great. Like we don’t have enough earth born pathogens…
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If there’s a better name for a female aardvark than Princess Dirt Pig, I don’t know what it is.
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I adore this idea!
Though it may mean longer waits for the bathroom at dinner parties.
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I have to disagree with this one. My MIL aged at a normal rate…
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Holy crap, I hope so! In their case, total annihilation can’t come soon enough.
No pun intended.
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Have you ever seriously thought about dung? I can’t say I have, but clearly someone is taking note.
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Counting poop pellets? Well, everyone needs a hobby.
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I only have one word for that revelation….
Wow.
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While this graphic of weaponized coconuts is disturbing, one has to wonder why the cartoon father has grabbed mom, stolen junior’s lollipop and left junior to fend for himself.
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I know age has widened my circumference. I feel ya tree.
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Frass. A great word, but as any serious Scrabble player knows…. not worth wasting two S’s. I shall instead whip kerf out on my unsuspecting husband this weekend. K and F? Now you’re talking.
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The husband and I celebrated our 38th wedding anniversary recently. It doesn’t seem possible since I’m only 39 years old, but the Hallmark cards don’t lie.
My other half is a sweetie and had a nice flower arrangement delivered.
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It’s a little lopsided because the delivery man came early and slipped on the driveway ice we hadn’t yet treated. Thankfully he was okay, and that must be some tough glass because the vase didn’t even chip.
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I can tell my husband answered the florist’s annual question “what’s her favorite color?” with the technically correct… though wrong for this situation…. green.
I do love green, and it is my favorite … but when it comes to floral arrangements? A bit more color would be nice.
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I’m not complaining, but there are enough lilies in this one to make our house smell like a funeral home.
And though he didn’t get that quite right, I have to say… when it came to card selection?
He totally nailed it.
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Remember ladies, picking the right man is the most important decision you’ll ever make.
Choose wisely.
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Yes, I took another trip around the sun this month. Nothing to celebrate at this point in my life, but I woke up to a (not so) subtle gift reminder all the same.
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The large box was a present from my husband, from my very favorite store. They sell high quality handmade jewelry, pottery, art, crafts etc. and every trip we take there includes a round of oohing and ahhing . I rarely buy anything for myself as the prices make me swoon, but the husband makes a yearly pilgrimage… and who am I to complain? 😉
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This year’s gift was a fabulous mesquite wood lamp with hazed copper cut out shade.
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Both sides are inlaid with turquoise veins and it really is a lovely piece.
(If you’re wondering just how lovely? Here’s a similar lamp from the same company with much less turquoise on their website.)
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Yeah. That lovely.
😳
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Needless to say I love it, and shall enjoy its light for many years to come.
The original birthday plan was to hit my favorite restaurant for dinner, but Mother Nature said no by melting the snow and dropping a solid afternoon’s worth of sleet and ice.
Alternate plan?
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Pizza and beer in the man cave…
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With a stellar game of whip your husband’s ass with a double letter Q in ‘quay’, a triple score ‘quiz’ and an almost superfluous ‘zeal’ for a total of 102 points Scrabble.
A very happy birthday indeed.
🤣
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With Thanksgiving right around the bend, my mind naturally turns to food. Visions of a glistening, perfectly roasted, juicy bird take center stage… and I can guarantee you it’s not this kind.
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A plant based turkey?
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An already stuffed with God knows what plant based turkey?
Not on my holiday table.
🤢
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Backyard color.
(Disclaimer-this pic was taken before the N’Or Easter. The wind stripped her bare)
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But yes, the burning bushes are burning.
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I have to ask… wouldn’t duct tape work just as well?
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten doesn’t care.
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I’ve always found this to be true.
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While I’ve been known to enjoy some oddly flavored beer …
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That’s a hearty no from me. Pretzels belong in a bowl on the bar… to make you thirsty for more beer… not in the bottle you’re drinking. Blech!
For the first time in over a year, I lost a game of Scrabble to my husband. But in my defense?
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Even Noah Webster would have a hard time with those letters.
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We had a nice rain storm pass through recently so the husband and I took to the barn porch with adult beverages. He was interested to see if his leaky gutter repair worked ( it did ) and if his strategically placed rock ( which I told him was too small ) would protect the lawn from a rain induced pothole. ( it partially did )
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And in case you’re wanting a piece of jewelry to commemorate the shit show of the last year?
I have just the thing.
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You’re welcome.
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I saw this article the other day and it was like a train wreck. You know you shouldn’t look… but you can’t help yourself.
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Yes, a fatberg.
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A half a mile long fatberg to be exact.
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I’m sorry, but who in their right mind flushes fat down the toilet!
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See? Fatberg…. it’s a word. And I’m totally using it the next time we play Scrabble.
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The London museum has a fatberg exhibit?
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Of course they do.
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A rather tardy Valentines Day post.
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A bouquet of flowers was delivered that morning….
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And while I don’t think it was our local florist’s best work, the sentiment remained steadfast.
Early afternoon found us out in the barn and back at the Scrabble board.
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Although the way it started reminded me a little too much of Bill and Monica.
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Did I win?
Such a silly question.
Unbeknownst to my husband, I’d made early evening reservations at one of his favorite restaurants and before the place got too crowded, we slipped in for a glorious meal.
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Long stemmed red roses were given to ladies upon entry… and petals were scattered everywhere. On the floor, on the window sills, on the chairs…..
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Even under the beer taps.
We settled happily at the bar (the husband’s preferred spot because one of the bartenders was a Marine which can lead to hours long conversations) and I tucked into a few delightful Rum Punches. We had appetizers that I forgot to photograph… garlic Parmesan wings for the husband, creamy clam chowder for me… and were awaiting our meals when this older couple sat down across from us.
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In case you can’t see it, the man was wearing a Marine Corps tee shirt. It was at that moment I knew I was doomed.
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Like recognizes like… and within minutes the gentleman uttered the words I never want to hear on Valentines Day.
Semper Fi.
My husband bought them a round of drinks. They bought us a round of drinks. Military stories were traded across the bar….and by the time our lovely meals arrived?
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Filet Oscar with fresh lobster, roasted fingerling potatoes and grilled asparagus for the husband.
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Filet au Poivre with cremini mushroom brandied cream sauce, roasted fingerling potatoes and grilled asparagus for me…
I’d lost him.
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And ended up eating most of my meal alone.
So when I said love was in the air?
Apparently I was talking about the Corps.
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My weekly skunking of the husband at Scrabble in the Barn Mahal continues. And now? Even the tiles are getting in on the fun…
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Yes, those were really the letters I drew. And it’s pretty much what I did to the husband in game number one.
Not to be out done, our second game’s tiles had their say as well.
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My last four letters said it all.
Sorry, dear. I only do what the tiles tell me…
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Now that my seemingly endless supply of liquor bottles were strategically arranged on the custom made shelves…. it was time to get down to business.
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Cocktail business.
We have a favorite restaurant in Kennebunk that we haven’t visited for over a year. *insert audible sigh here* (The bartender is an old client of my husband’s and he’s been known to have a liberal pouring hand. I like that in a man.) My very favorite drink is made there and seeing that it’s won awards, I’m clearly not the only one who loves it.
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Calling it the nectar of the gods doesn’t begin to describe it’s mood elevating goodness, but trust me… it’s close.
So when our barn bar was being planned, built and outfitted? This divine concoction was never far from my mind.
Having never made one, I searched the web for a recipe but only came up with an ingredient list. Being out of Triple Sec I substituted Grand Marnier… and not knowing their homemade sour ingredients, I had to settle for bottled.
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The results were satisfying… if nowhere near the ambrosia level of the original.
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Bad Martha grudgingly approved, but said it still needed a little tweeking.
* side note – my iPhone’s spellcheck changed tweeking to twerking three times… to which Bad Martha thoroughly approves. *
Cocktail in hand, it was time to whip the husband.
At Scrabble! My name is not Martha.
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Game number one gave me a series of disastrous letters…. but I prevailed.
And the beginning of game number two?
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Didn’t begin much better.
( To answer your inevitable question… yes, I drew a ‘c’ Yes, I used that word. And yes, the husband added an ‘ed’ because in the end? He knew he was. )
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River's world..... 